


Kiss Him Better

by kingtransdrew



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I promise it gets fluffy don’t let the description fool you, Post-wings, Set sometime in early s3, pre-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:16:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19275940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingtransdrew/pseuds/kingtransdrew
Summary: “Chloe...” He presses just a bit closer to her, “Don’t leave...” He almost pleads. There’s a note of desperation under his tone. His voice thickens just slightly. It makes her want to hug him and never let him go. She just might, once all this is over.





	Kiss Him Better

**Author's Note:**

> I watched this entire show in a week and it inspired me to write the first proper fic I’ve written since high school.
> 
> I haven’t fallen this hard for a show or for characters in a long time. It was actually easy to write this because I never hit a part that I didn’t want to write. I needed a big serving of self-indulgent fluff after that season 4 finale but I also love and would drown myself in hurt/comfort so here’s what is possibly the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written in my life. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lucifer’s scream of pain stops her heart dead in her chest.

Chloe whips around in time to see him drop only inches away. She dives back, seizes him under the arms, and yanks. Her heart restarts and goes straight to racing; hammering against her ribs as she fears the worst. He’s a dead weight in her arms; completely limp and-

Another strangled cry escapes him and she can breathe again. She hauls her partner into the dark classroom and out of sight of their shooter. The remaining onslaught of bullets barely misses him. Immensely relieved that he’s still alive, she holds him tight to her chest as she gasps for air. For a split second, she’d really thought-

_Oh god, he’d been shot._

“Lucifer?” Chloe frantically pats his cheek to get his attention. His breathing is strangled and harsh. He doesn’t lift his head to face her, so she does it for him; tilting his face to face her, “Talk to me. Where are you hurt?” She demands.

Lucifer lets out a harsh, breathy laugh but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His eyes are bright with pain and his smile is too tight to be real. “Detective-“ It comes out in a gasp and his expression wavers, “Not how- I pictured being- being in your arms-“

The shooter goes quiet. Lucifer’s agonized breathing fills the silence as words fail him. Chloe tries not to let her fear show. “No time for jokes,” She tells him sharply. Her eyes roam what she can see of him; searching for where the bullet must have struck, “Tell me where you’re hurt.” She drops her hand from his face and grabs his shoulder, pulls him closer to her.

Lucifer lets out a strangled sort of pained noise and presses his face against her chest. She’s almost hoping for any kind of innuendo, but he just continues to wheeze. He’s clearly struggling to keep himself somewhat composed. “It’s-“ He bites the word out and has to pause again, his chest heaving as he fights to breathe, “It’s my leg-“ He finally manages to gasp. 

Chloe’s eyes flick to his legs, and sure enough, she can see the discolouration of his right pant leg. The telltale glisten that comes with the material being soaked. From here she can see that the bullet had struck him just below the knee. She doesn’t need a medic to tell her that it’s bad. She gives his shoulder an instinctive squeeze. 

“Where’d you go, officers?” Chloe’s heart plummets as the shooter’s voice rings out.

Scott Hartfield, 19. Shot and killed his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend in a jealous rage. Framed it on the boyfriend’s ex-criminal mother. It had taken them a while to track him down. But he’d been prepared. He’d lead her and Lucifer on a chase into his high school; thankfully empty for the day. The second they were on his territory he’d opened fire. 

He’d shot her partner. 

Chloe pulls her gun out of its holster and cocks it. “Don’t move.” She whispers to Lucifer. She eases him to the ground as gently as she can, careful to not jostle his injured leg. 

She starts to get to her feet. Lucifer looks at her with wide-eyed confusion. She can tell by the haze in his eyes that he’s not fully with her. “Detective-“ 

“Shhh,” She shushes him gently, pausing only to run her fingers soothingly through his hair, “Just give me a second.” Then she stands. Stepping past his prone form, she creeps to the classroom doorway. She holds her gun up and stops, listening carefully, ready to shoot. 

Glass crunches. Chloe whips out of hiding. In a split second her eyes lock onto her target and she aims. Fires. Scott Hartfield goes down with a scream, blood spurting from his shoulder. She doesn’t know how bad the wound she dealt is, but she knows it won’t keep him down long. She aims again but her gun clicks empty- she’s used up her shots. But Hartfield hasn’t, he’s already aiming again-

Whirling around, Chloe holsters her gun and flies back into the classroom. Lucifer has pulled himself into a sitting position which only makes it easier for her to duck down and grab his arm. “We need to run!” She orders, pulling his arm over her shoulders. She wraps her other arm around his thin waist and pulls him to his feet. She doesn’t give him time to find his footing, she can’t, she practically drags him out the classroom door and his howl breaks her heart. 

A shot goes off behind them but it hits the lockers next to them.

It takes Lucifer a good few seconds to find any traction. It’s long enough that Chloe is terrified she’s going to collapse under his weight. He might be thin enough for her to wrap an arm around, but he’s by no means light. She struggles with his full weight until he manages to find at least some footing. But she knows it won’t last long. Ridiculous as his pain tolerance must be- considering what she’s seen him take- he won’t last more than a couple minutes on that leg.

Her mind whirls with options. She needs to think fast. Going outside won’t work; it’s too open. That backup she’d called in wouldn’t get here in time. Which means they need to hide. She makes a sharp turn that almost brings Lucifer down on top of her. He cries out and she gasps an apology as she keeps moving. The gym would be too open. The classrooms are too small. Door after door flies by-

The library. Chloe pulls Lucifer inside as quick as she can. Looking around wildly, eyes adjusting to the dark, she finds another door. She starts to pull Lucifer towards it, but he buckles against her. She grunts under his weight, her own knees threatening to give, but she refuses to fall.

“Detective-“ He’s wheezing, his breath whistling in her ear, “I can’t-“

Chloe practically drags him toward the door. “Just a little further.” She pleads in a whisper. She grits her teeth and tightens her grip on his waist to keep him up. She needs to get him to safety. He’s still wheezing as she makes it to the door. Thankfully, it’s unlocked. She ducks inside and closes the door quietly behind her, leaving the both of them in complete darkness.

Lucifer sags against her; his strength apparently spent. She gingerly lowers him to the ground, biting her lip as the movement draws a pained gasp out of him. As soon as he’s sitting she drops into a crouch at his side and pulls her phone out. The flashlight lights up the small room.

She directs the light at Lucifer’s injured leg. She can see the entry and exit points of the bullet thanks to the neat holes it made in his pant leg. She takes her phone in her teeth and starts to shrug her jacket off. It’s all she has on hand and she doesn’t have time to search this room for a suitable bandage. It will have to do. 

“So... forward, Detective,” Lucifer manages to purr, even now, “All... all it took was- was a little bullet-“ The strain in his voice kills her. Usually, she’d reprimand him but she can’t bring herself to be annoyed. Hearing his usual flirtations is an odd comfort. It reminds her that he’s still breathing. That he’s ok.

She doesn’t know what she would do if he wasn’t.

She sets her phone on a shelf and keeps it pointed at Lucifer. In the harsh white light, he looks even worse. There’s a noticeable sheen to his too-pale face. His hair has started to curl freely. His mouth is drawn in a thin line and he’s breathing hard through his nose. Pain-bright eyes flick to her.

“I need to stop the bleeding,” She tells him, holding up her jacket in one hand. She takes a quick look around at what she can see, and curses that there’s nothing that he can really bite down on, “Here,” She takes his hand and places it on her shoulder. Tries not to think about how badly his hand is shaking, “Squeeze when it hurts.” 

She works as quickly as she can. The second she makes contact with his leg; Lucifer goes completely rigid. His grip on her shoulder goes from completely limp to painfully tight. The strength surprises her; she almost can’t move her arm. A strangled sound escapes him but he doesn’t scream. She binds her jacket around the wound; tight enough to stem the bleeding, but not tight enough to cut off circulation. As soon as she’s done she snatches her hands away like he’d burned her. Really, she’s terrified of hurting him any more than she’s already had to.

His white-knuckled grip on her shoulder doesn’t loosen. Chloe reassuringly places her small hand over his much larger one. She rubs her thumb soothingly over the back of his hand as he rides out the pain. “I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

Lucifer’s eyes flick to her face. He’s got that look; the one he only ever gives her. That soft expression of complete vulnerability. “Not... your fault.” He replies. His voice is weak. Chloe would be lying to herself if she said that it didn’t terrify her to see him like this. She’d seen him lift men twice his size and throw them with a single hand. She’d seen him take seven shots without flinching. So it shakes her to her very core to see him so... human.

She doesn’t believe that he’s the Devil. But she’s never seen him as a regular man either. Regular men can’t do the things he does. It’s almost scary how easy it is to forget that he is human. 

“Detect-Detective-“ His voice stutters, “It- it really hurts.” Usually, she would snark him, ‘no shit it hurts you got shot’ or something along those lines. But one look at his face, at his eyes, and she feels the words die in her throat. 

His eyes are fearful. He’s afraid. God, and why wouldn’t he be? He’s been shot, he’s in pain, and they’re trapped in this pitch dark room while a killer hunts them down like a fox to rabbits. The look on his face reminds her of that time she shot him. The fear, the confusion as he’d lifted his hand up and seen his palm awash with red. As he’d collapsed. That had been a graze. This... she’s seen horrifying injuries from lesser shots. 

She squeezes the hand resting on her shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine,” She tells him, “Backup is on the way.” She grabs her phone with her free hand. Switching off the flashlight, she fires off quick messages to Dan.

_Hiding in the library. First floor_

_Lucifer’s been shot. Need medic_

Then she switches her phone to silent and places it on the floor. She shifts closer to Lucifer. Mostly to comfort him, but also to comfort herself. She can just see him as her eyes adjust to the dark; see the stuttering rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to catch his breath. Feeling the movement of his shoulder against her grounds her. Reminds her that he’s still here. And that she needs to protect him as fiercely as he’s protected her so many times before. 

“Detective-“ His voice is so strained, every syllable sounds like it’s going to snap, “Why- why does it- why does it hurt so much?” The fear in his tone makes her blood run cold.

“Hey,” She speaks softly, her free hand coming up to cup his cheek, “Lucifer, look at me.” She turns his face to face her. She’s almost grateful that she can’t make out his expression in the dark. She doesn’t know if she could take it if it matches his voice.

“I can’t- I can’t actually see you.” She can tell by his tone that he’s trying to sound teasing, but it doesn’t work. It sounds too forced. He still sounds scared. His usual purr is barely a croak.

“Then listen to me,” Chloe insists, “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get out of this,” She speaks slowly, making sure that he hears every word, “It was a clean shot. The bullet’s not in you, and that’s a good thing. Help is coming- a medic is coming. You’ll be ok,” She brushes her thumb tenderly over his cheek, “Promise.” 

“Chloe...” He almost never uses her name. It breaks her heart to hear him use it now in that soft, vulnerable voice of his, “I-I can barely think- I-“ He takes a shuddering breath. His hand on her shoulder starts to shake harder, so she curls her fingers around his and squeezes.

“Try to breathe, Lucifer.” She urges him. 

“I can’t- I can’t, Detect-“ 

Chloe’s hand finds his hair. “Do it with me,” She presses. She leans forward and gently guides him to do the same, touching their foreheads together. She knows he can’t see her, but here he can feel her. Hear her, “Just follow my lead.” She knows how to talk down panic attacks. She’s done it for herself, for victims, even for coworkers. It’s with practiced ease that she takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. And repeats. And repeats. 

She hears Lucifer do the same. She listens to his quick, stuttering gasps as they start to smooth out. Slow down. She combs her fingers soothingly through his curls. “There we go,” She murmurs, letting him find the rest of his way back down, “Come back to me.”

He does. As he always does. Ever since the day they met, he’s never managed to stay lost long. He always finds his way back to her eventually. The lighthouse to his ship; no matter the weather she’s there to light his way home. In his eyes, there is no storm that could hide the light that shines from her. 

“Chloe...” He presses just a bit closer to her, “Don’t leave...” He almost pleads. There’s a note of desperation under his tone. His voice thickens just slightly. It makes her want to hug him and never let him go. She just might, once all this is over.

She can barely see in the dark, but still, she tries to look into his eyes. “Never,” She replies without any hesitation, “I’d never-“ 

“I know you’re in here!” 

Chloe’s blood turns to ice in her veins. 

A pitched, breathy laugh fills the library. “You missed, lady! Barely even stings!” 

Chloe pulls away from Lucifer. She fires off another quick text to Dan.

_Hartfield in library. Hurry_

Her hand goes from Lucifer’s hair to her gun. 

“You can’t hide!” Hartfield crows, “It was so thoughtful of you to leave a trail for me to follow!”

Chloe could scream. Of course- Lucifer was bleeding. It would’ve left a trail. How had she not thought of that? A crash and the sound of books hitting the ground makes her flinch and she just prays that it’s the wound she’d inflicted on him taking effect and that he’s collapsed. Regardless, he could bust down the door any second.

And she’s out of bullets.

Footsteps sound in the silence. She listens tensely and counts her breaths. A shadow falls under the door as Hartfield approaches. 

Lucifer’s breath hitches in her ear. 

And then something shatters.

_”LAPD get your hands in the air!”_

The silence explodes into yelling. On sheer instinct, Chloe throws herself on Lucifer and wraps her arms tight around him. Gunshots go off and she braces for the agony. 

But as suddenly as it had all started, it stops. The pain doesn’t come. One last gunshot and the world goes still once again. Chloe raises her head from where she’d pressed it into Lucifer’s shoulder. She waits with bated breath.

“Chloe?” Dan’s voice calls.

She could genuinely cry with the relief that washes over her. “In here!” She cries.

“‘Bout bloody time...” Lucifer mumbles weakly. 

Chloe eases herself off of Lucifer. “Sorry.” She murmurs when she hears him hiss. She knows she should go outside. Give her report and make room for the medics. But she can’t stand the thought of leaving him by himself, even if only for a few minutes. Not when he’d asked her almost desperately, not when she’d promised. They can get her report later. She has more important things to worry about. 

When the door does open a few seconds later, it’s Dan that greets them. “Jesus,“ He mutters as he crouches down and eyes Lucifer’s makeshift bandage, “You piss her off again?” He can’t help but wince in sympathy even as he jokes.

“Dan.” Chloe says warningly. She is far beyond the mood right now.

Lucifer looks even worse in the light; he’s far too pale and his eyes are rimmed red. Yet he raises an eyebrow at Dan, somehow still managing to channel his usual self. “Must really think.... you’re clever...” He huffs, voice dripping with sarcasm. The absence of the charming smile really accentuates the lack of energy behind his words. Even Dan looks worried. 

“Alright, medic time,” Dan says. He shifts closer and pulls Lucifer’s arm his shoulders, “They’re just outside. Count of three?” He glances over at Chloe.

Chloe nods as she takes Lucifer’s other arm. “One, two, three!” It takes less effort to haul Lucifer to his feet when she has help, but he is still by no means a light man. His thin frame is very misleading. It doesn’t help that he buckles with a ragged cry, almost taking both her and Dan down. She catches him firmly around the waist and feels Dan do the same. Together they’re able to keep him upright, albeit barely. 

Lucifer sags between them. He barely moves and they practically drag him out of the room. Medics rush over to meet them, and she and Dan help them get Lucifer onto their gurney. Usually, Chloe would step away then, but she doesn’t. Her hand finds Lucifer’s and she holds onto him even as Dan steps back. Even as they wheel him away she follows; jogging to keep up. 

She only lets go when they make her. “Sorry ma’am, you can’t accompany us.” One of the medics tells her as soon as they exit the school. The urge to argue, to cling tighter and demand to stay flares instantly and she almost bites back that she can’t, she can’t leave him, she promised she wouldn’t. But she knows it would be futile. She stops and his hand is pulled from hers as they keep moving without her.

“Detective?” Lucifer calls. He sits up suddenly, confusion in his eyes, worry in his voice. It takes every ounce of willpower she has to not go running after him. 

“I’ll be right behind you!” She calls after him. She fishes in her pocket for her car keys, relieved that she hadn’t left them in her jacket. Taking off in a run, she heads for her car. With any luck, she’ll beat the ambulance to the hospital.

-

It was, apparently, a medical mural that Lucifer’s leg hadn’t been broken. Chloe was inclined to agree. 

(He seemed to pull off a lot of medical miracles. Like, a lot.)

She’d arrived about ten minutes after the ambulance, and that was with her abusing her power over the sirens and letting them wail so that everyone would get the fuck out of her way. Lucifer was much more himself upon her arrival. All charming smiles and making everyone around him swoon. To say that she was relieved to see him smile again would be a massive understatement. 

“They took your jacket,” He’d told her as she’s offered him her hands to help him out of bed, “Something about it being covered in blood.” His hands no longer shook in hers as he accepted her help.

Chloe pulled him to his feet. “I can always buy another one.” She’d wrapped a strong arm around his waist. Held him just a tad possessively as the entranced doctor discharged him. Apparently, the damage wasn’t serious enough to keep him, but she suspected that he’d sweet-talked his way out of staying. His aversion to hospitals wasn’t lost on her. 

She wouldn’t let him go to the Lux though. “You’re staying at my place tonight,” She’d informed him, “I want to keep an eye on you.” 

He’d protested, of course. “I do not need a babysitter!” He’d exclaimed, indignant, perhaps even offended.

“Can you look me in the eye and swear that you’ll rest if I take you home?” She’d countered.

He’d wisely shut up after that. 

It’s night by the time they finally get to her apartment. Dan would’ve dropped Trixie off a couple of hours ago, and Maze would’ve been watching her. She should be in bed by now. A small blessing, because Chloe is exhausted and she knows Lucifer is too. He looks leagues better than he had back at the school, but he still doesn’t look quite himself. There are stress lines under his eyes and he’s still just a shade too pale. 

Chloe rounds the car to the passenger side. “Ah-ah,” She tuts as Lucifer starts to climb out, “Wait for me. I don’t want you walking on that.” She ducks down and leans in to slide her arm around him.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting out of the car,” Lucifer huffs. He winds his arm around her shoulders even as he says it, knowing that he won’t win this argument, “Really, Detective, you needn’t burden yourself with me. My brother would be more than happy to watch over me like a mother hen.” He tries. 

“You’re not a burden,” Chloe replies firmly. Maybe a bit firmer than intended, if his widening eyes are anything to go off of. She eases him slowly out of the car, letting him take it at his own pace and find his balance, “It’s not that I don’t trust Amenadiel, it’s that-“

“You don’t trust me.” Bitterness seeps into Lucifer’s tone. 

“No,” Chloe could smack him sometimes, “That’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say that while I trust Amenadiel,” She starts to lead him slowly towards her front door. Now that they don’t have a killer to worry about, she doesn’t want to rush him and potentially hurt him, “I would feel more comfortable if you stayed with me. Not because I don’t trust you,” She says pointedly, “I do trust you. I just... want to make sure you’re ok.” She admits. 

Lucifer turns to her. He has that confused expression on his face. “But I am ok.” He says softly. 

Chloe wonders how he can be fluent in so many languages and yet have meaning completely fly over his head. He hears the words being said, but not what she means by it. “I was worried, Lucifer,” She spells it out for him as she steps up to her door, “Part of me still is. So you being here... it helps me calm down.” She pointedly avoids eye contact as she pulls her keys out.

“Oh.” Is all Lucifer says as she opens the door. 

Chloe helps him inside, then shuts the door quietly behind her. “Trixie is asleep,” She whispers to Lucifer, nodding to her daughter’s door, “Try to keep it down.” She doesn’t want to worry Trixie. She loves Lucifer with her whole heart; seeing him like this could really upset her. Better to leave it till morning, when Chloe will be in a better headspace to potentially calm her daughter down. 

“Very well,” Lucifer lowers his voice. He frowns as she leads him away from the couch, “Where are we going?” He asks.

“My room,” Chloe replies, “You need the bed more than I do. I’ll take the couch.” 

“No,” Lucifer suddenly stops, “No, I am not taking your bed from you. The couch will do just fine.” 

“Lucifer-“

“Please, Detective, I insist.” 

He’s infuriatingly stubborn. But something in his voice makes her pause, and turn to him. He has that pleading look in his eyes again. It’s subtle, but it’s there; not matching the stubborn set of his jaw. Try as he might, he’s never been very good at hiding his feelings from her. His eyes tend to give away whatever’s going on behind them. 

Chloe sighs. Whether it’s the eyes or the voice, something makes her concede. “Fine,” She agrees, turning him back to the couch, “But don’t start pouting at me when Trixie throws herself on you. You brought this on yourself.” She tells him.

Lucifer gasps indignantly, though she can tell there’s no real offence behind it. “You would leave me to the mercy of the urchin?” He demands, “I’m wounded! The thought of what she might do to me in this state...” He shudders dramatically.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. I’m sure the onslaught of hugs will be just torturous.” She replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm. He scoffs at her, but he’s not fooling anyone. She knows damn well that he loves Trixie almost as much as Trixie adores him.

She helps ease him down onto the couch. When he wobbles uncertainly, she tightens her grip on his waist. Once he’s seated she moves to pull away, but her hand lingers on his back for just a moment. Just under his shoulder blades, barely missing where she knows his scars are. He looks at her, she’s lingered a moment too long, and she quickly pulls her hand away. 

Lucifer watches her for a heartbeat. His dark eyes are curious and she thinks they might even be hopeful, but he blinks and the look is gone. “Thank you, Detective,” He says, leaning back into the couch, “I think I’ll be quite alright without-“ He moves as he speaks; shifting to draw his legs up onto the couch. He cuts off abruptly with a pained wince, his fingers digging hard into the cushion beneath him.

Chloe moves quickly; placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “You were saying?” She raises a brow at him, and he has the sense to smile sheepishly. It’s a bit of a half-hearted effort; she can see the pain in his too-tight smile. Thank god she hadn’t let him go home to his penthouse, “Here, let me just...” She leans down and places her hand on his injured leg; careful to avoid the wound itself. With slow, careful movement she helps him bring his legs up onto the couch. He doesn’t do a very good job of hiding the pain it causes him, gritting his teeth and sucking in a sharp breath, but it’s done. 

Lucifer stretches his bad leg out slowly, still grimacing. “Yes, well,” He unclenches his jaw, finally seeming to settle at least somewhat comfortably, “It didn’t hurt quite so much when you shot me.” He points out. 

“That’s because I only grazed you,” Chloe reminds him, “If I’d legitimately shot you in the thigh, you could’ve potentially bled out within minutes. I was panicking, but not stupid.” Her go-to shot is the knee. Guaranteed to down someone, without potentially causing them to bleed out. Not that different from Lucifer’s current injury, except somehow he’s not staying down. For the most part, anyway. 

Lucifer huffs softly. “You humans are so fragile,” He tells her, “It amazes me. I mean, you live your lives every day, in spite of the rest of the world trying to kill you. Disasters, cars, unruly animals, other people. Every day is like Russian Roulette and you all just... throw yourself at it,” He throws his hands wide, “Truly, it’s incredible. I’d be impressed if it didn’t vex me so much.” 

Chloe sits down in the free space that’s left on the couch. If she wasn’t so used to his monologuing about the fragility of humanity and wallowing about his apparently newfound mortality, she would’ve rolled her eyes. As is, she’s used to it, and also not looking to start up that line of topic. “You’re the one who likes to throw himself at danger,” She points out, “I, at least, wear protective gear. You throw yourself at armed criminals in a three-piece suit like that pocket thing is gonna somehow stop a bullet.” She points at his pocket square for emphasis.

“Of course I do,” His grin fades, “Otherwise they’d shoot at you.” His tone changes then. Suddenly it’s soft and oh-so-sincere. There’s that vulnerable, strange look he only ever gets when they’re alone. The uncharacteristic (but is it really uncharacteristic? Isn’t she used to this by now?) warmth in his eyes that he gets for her and her alone. 

If Chloe wasn’t used to these sudden mood shifts, she would’ve gotten whiplash. But she is used to them when it comes to him. There’s very little she’s not used to. After almost two years, she knows him. “Do you want to talk about what happened today?” She ventures. Because try as she might, she can’t stop thinking about it. About his trembling voice and his fear and his eyes. She’d never seen him like that before. And she never wants to see it again.

Lucifer cocks his head to one side. “What’s there to talk about?” He asks. Then he straightens up, and says, “Don’t keep yourself up on my account, Detective. I’m sure you have important things to get to in the morning.” He waves her off. 

Deflecting. She’s not letting him off the hook that easily. “I’m not tired,” She’s genuinely not, she feels too wired to even try to sleep, “Besides, this is important. You had a panic attack, Lucifer.” She presses.

He looks surprised; raising his brows. “Is that what that was?” And the question sounds so genuine that Chloe’s exasperated comeback never makes it past her lips.

“Have you never had one?” She asks instead.

Lucifer hums thoughtfully. “Can’t say that I have,” He replies sincerely, “It was very unpleasant. I’d be content if I never had one again.” He muses. 

Chloe wonders how he can be so casual about it. She wonders how he’s never had one. With everything she knows about his history and his family- even with all the metaphors she still knows that he comes from a horrible, horrible place- she’s floored that he’s never had one. But she can grill him about that another time. For now, she just wants to focus on today’s events. 

“Do you know what brought it on?” She prompts, tucking all her other questions away for a later date. 

His expression grows sombre. “I suppose... well, I was scared,” He looks away from her; eyes focussing on something past her shoulder, “I was quite out of it, really. It’s not often that I’m shot by complete fluke. And it really fucking hurt, so there’s that.” His brow furrows, his eyes narrow as he thinks. She can practically see his thoughts as they dart through his eyes.

Chloe nods gently. “So you were scared because you were shot?” It’s understandable. After she’d been shot way back on their first case together, she’d been a mess for days. Any loud noise made her flinch and instinctively go for where her gun would be at her hip. And that was with the training she had as a cop. It’s only natural that Lucifer, who’d never been trained to deal with these situations and had only ever been shot at least somewhat intentionally, would react more strongly than she had.

But to her surprise, he shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. That’s not to say I wasn’t scared for myself, I was. But I was more scared for you,” His eyes flick to her face, and the intensity of his stare could take her breath away, “I don’t mean to imply that you can’t take care of yourself, I know you can. But, and you’ll have to forgive me for this, Detective, I’m used to being able to... protect you. So when it was suddenly you who had to protect me...” He hesitates now. He pauses for a moment, eyeing her carefully, his eyes calculating. When he does speak again, he does so cautiously, “I think... I was afraid that I’d be helpless if anything were to happen to you.” He says it like he’s realizing it right as it comes out of his mouth. Realization dawns in his eyes as he looks at her. 

Chloe feels warmth blossom in her cheeks. “Lucifer...” She murmurs. With anyone else, she would dig her heels in and fight back against the idea that she needs protecting. But with him it’s different. He knows she can handle herself. His urge to protect her isn’t because he thinks she somehow needs it. No, his urge to protect her comes from how deeply he cares about her. Sometimes it infuriates her, but other times, now... something in her chest warms, “I wish there was some way I could convince you that you don’t need to worry so much about me.” She sighs fondly. She’d given up on trying to convince him long ago. 

Lucifer chuckles softly. The first real, warm laugh she’s gotten out of him tonight at long last. “We both know you can’t.” He murmurs. 

“That we do.” Chloe agrees warmly.

And then they just talk. Lucifer tells her about the morning after a particularly wild Christmas party at the Lux that has her shoving her face in a pillow to muffle her laughter. In exchange, she tells him behind the scenes stories of Hot Tub High School. She has to shove the pillow at him when he starts to lose control of his own laughter. They fall into a familiar pattern of banter and snark, but whispering as to not wake Trixie. It’s comfortable like this. It’s easy to forget that anything happened today as they lose track of the hours and lose themselves to their own voices.

“And then-“ Chloe’s wrapping up the story of a particularly awful audition process. Now she’s tired and her eyes are heavy, but she can still just barely get the words out through her sleepy giggling, “Then the director told us- ‘just act like the frogs aren’t there!’ And my partner finally just snapped. God, she grabbed one of the frogs and-“ She turns to Lucifer, and abruptly stops. 

At some point, while she wasn’t looking, Lucifer had fallen asleep. Right where he’s leaning against the back of the couch, with his cheek resting against his knuckles. It occurs to her that she’s never actually seen him sleep before. Maybe an odd thought, but it’s the first thing that comes to her. Then she thinks about just how peaceful he looks. Despite the near-constant trademark grin and bright eyes, he’s never been able to fool her. She’s always noticed the stress lines, the bags he carries under his eyes during long cases, the way his eyes look when he thinks no one is paying attention.

But she’s always paying attention. And it’s always the eyes, she thinks. They always give him away. Sometimes they’re too bright; brimming with frantic, restless energy. Other times he smiles but his eyes don’t twinkle like they usually do. Sometimes his eyes look so much older than the rest of him. Like he really has seen millennia. 

None of that is present now. His face is peaceful and at ease; not a tension line in sight and lips parted softly as he breathes. It’s... strangely beautiful. Lucifer is a handsome man, she’s never tried to deny that, but this is different. This is him without the charm, the flirting, the effort. It’s just him. And she can’t help but let that captivate her for a couple seconds. She knows she’s staring, she knows her expression went soft sometime ago and her eyes are doing that warm and affectionate thing that they seem to do around him a lot these days, but she doesn’t care. It’s not like she has witnesses. 

When the urge to reach out and run her fingers through his messy curls starts to make her hands itch, Chloe knows she’s been staring too long. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and she knows she won’t last much longer. But she has no urge to go to bed. She could chalk it up to how her limbs feel heavy with sleep, or how she just doesn’t have the energy to move, but she’d be lying to herself. She knows damn well it’s because she doesn’t want to leave Lucifer. She can’t stop thinking about how he’d practically begged her not to leave him. How scared he’d sounded. The thought of leaving him by himself now makes something in her chest ache. 

She sighs softly. Sleeping on the couch it is. It’s not like it’s the first time, and it’s not like it’s that unpleasant. She tucks her feet up onto the couch, careful not to jostle Lucifer as she doesn’t want to wake him. She nestles herself against the couch as best she can. Not the most comfortable of positions, but it’ll do for tonight. Closing her eyes, she lets out a gentle breath and waits for blissful sleep to claim her. 

...And then two minutes later she hears Trixie’s bedroom door slide open. 

Chloe sighs quietly, pulling herself back from the edge of sweet, sweet sleep. She cracks one eye open just a slit, and sure enough, Trixie is slowly emerging from her room, Miss Alien in arm. Her first instinct is to sit up and tell Trixie to go to bed, it’s late, yes it’s a weekend but growing girls need their sleep. But even with what little she can make out through the fog of drowsiness, she can still see the look on Trixie’s face; worry. Her little girl looks terribly, terribly worried. 

She realizes, a bit slow because she’s half-asleep, that Trixie’s eyes are trained on Lucifer. Her daughter doesn’t even so much as glance in her direction as she starts to creep over to the couch. Instinct screams at her to rush over and comfort Trixie, who’s eyes are round and sad and could potentially be brimming with tears (it’s hard to tell) but she stays put. Her curiosity is piqued. She wants to see why Trixie is up and she knows that if she gives away the fact that she’s awake now, Trixie will simply go back to bed. 

So Chloe watches through her lashes as Trixie gingerly comes around the couch. She stands before Lucifer; barefoot in her pyjamas and her hair a wild, sleepy mess. She fidgets uncertainly with Miss Alien. It’s a nervous tic she has; to fidget with her hands or whatever happens to be in them. She stands unmoving for a few seconds as if contemplating her actions before she finally takes a couple brave steps closer. 

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” Trixie says in a tiny voice. Chloe’s has to wonder how long Trixie’s been awake to know that Lucifer’s hurt. Then she thinks of just what they’d been discussing and laughing about and her thoughts start to turn horrified, but Trixie’s little voice speaks up again before they can get very far, “I hope you feel better soon.” With that Trixie leans over, and ever so gently she presses Miss Alien into the space between Lucifer’s arm and his chest. 

Chloe’s heart just absolutely melts. And then, if that wasn’t enough, Trixie pushes herself up on her tiptoes to lean in and press the sweetest little kiss to Lucifer’s cheek. “Love you, Lucifer.” She says sweetly. Then she steps back and slowly creeps back to her bedroom. Lucifer stirs, mumbling nonsense in a language she doesn’t recognize but doesn’t rouse. He just slides down a bit; legs taking up what little free space remains and his head rests against the couch. The movement causes him to unconsciously wrap an arm around Miss Alien and hug her to his chest. 

Chloe could honestly, genuinely cry. But she waits till she hears Trixie’s bedroom door close before she lets the big smile come onto her face. Her daughter is such a sweet little thing. She’d recognized the action Trixie was mirroring, of course; she’d kissed Trixie better more times than she can count. To see Trixie try to kiss Lucifer better... her heart almost can’t take it. 

With thoughts of sneaking her daughter some chocolate cake, Chloe lets her lashes flutter shut once more. As sleep comes to claim her at last, she can’t help but drift off with that gentle smile still warming her face.

-

A loud gasp is what wakes her.

Chloe lets out a muffled noise of protest as the couch seems to shift beneath her. She presses her face insistently into it and finds it strangely warm. But it’s such a good warmth; the kind she feels when she wraps her hands around a warm mug. 

She becomes aware of a quiet, but very frantic shushing noise. The couch moves under her again, and this time she feels something shift on her back. Something warm and extremely soft. She hums a content little hum, but the blanket pulls away. She almost whines with its departure. 

More movement beneath her. As Chloe starts to properly rouse, she remembers that couches can’t actually move. And, usually, they don’t have heartbeats. Fluttering, too-quick heartbeats. She finally opens her eyes to the morning light. And though the immediate sight of her arm draped over his chest immediately confirms her suspicions; she’s aware that she’s definitely snuggling Lucifer before she even opens her eyes. 

Lucifer moves again. There’s a strange sound, like a quick gust of wind somewhere close by, before he seems to drop slightly. He gasps with the movement, and Chloe is very suddenly wide awake and trying to untangle herself from him.

“I’m sorry!” She gasps, sure she must’ve been lying on his injury. She can see how they were; lying in a bit of a tangle with her arms wrapped loosely around his waist and her head on his chest. She looks back to try and get her legs untangled from his but pauses. His legs are over top of hers, she hadn’t been lying on the wound at all.

“Not your fault,” There’s a bit of a strain in Lucifer’s voice. Still, he grins broadly at her, charm cranked all the way up even though he’s rocking a severe case of bedhead, “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a cuddler, Detective.” He teases lightly.

Chloe rolls her eyes, huffing softly. She’s about to quip right back at him, but her eyes land on Trixie mid-roll. Trixie, standing only a few feet away, with the biggest smile she has ever seen on her face and practically vibrating with excitement. Her face flushes bright red because she has been caught red-handed in a very compromising position. 

“Trix,” She says, slowly, like she’s negotiating with an armed and dangerous criminal, and not her very excited eight year old, “If you promise to never tell anybody about this, I will literally let you eat chocolate cake for breakfast.” 

Trixie doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that offer. She’s still looking at them with big, star-struck eyes. Actually, she seems to be looking more at Lucifer than she is at Chloe. 

“For a week.” Chloe adds. 

Trixie’s gleaming eyes snap to her. That got her attention. “But-“ She starts to point excitedly at Lucifer, “He-“

“I’ll do movie night once a week!” Lucifer blurts out quickly. Chloe looks down at him in surprise. Since when is he so concerned about being seen like this? His expression is almost frantic. 

Trixie’s eyes are back on Lucifer. Her jaw almost hits the floor, her eyes widening till they’re as big as moons. “Promise?” She asks in a loud, breathless whisper. 

“My word is my bond. So long-“ He holds up a finger before she can start squealing in delight, “As you pretend you never saw this. _Any_ of it.” He points for emphasis. 

Trixie mimes zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. She’s still vibrating with barely contained excitement, however. But at least she isn’t squealing and bouncing around. 

Chloe sits up fully, pushing herself off of Lucifer’s chest. “Well, now that we’re all awake,” She pauses to yawn, and her jaw pops in the most satisfying way, “How does some breakfast sound?” She directs the question at Lucifer. It’s an invitation to stay; an invitation she’s been extending to him more and more recently. He doesn’t always say yes, of course. But part of her, the small part that’s still worried after yesterday’s incident, hopes he’ll stay. 

He looks surprised, briefly, before he blinks it away. He looks surprised every time like he can’t quite believe that she actually wants him to stay. But as quick as it had come, it’s gone. Lucifer sits up quickly, a dazzling smile brightening his face. “Sounds lovely!” He beams, clapping his hands together. Chloe can’t help her eyes wandering to his bedhead; messy black curls that somehow still manage to look good almost falling into his face. It’s almost adorable, “What shall I-“ In one fluid, graceful motion he swings his legs off the couch and stands. Apparently forgetting his injury, because he cuts himself off with a yelp of pain when his leg buckles under him. 

Chloe moves with what she likes to call ‘mom speed.’ It’s a speed she’s usually only capable of when Trixie is in imminent danger of getting hurt; say by faceplanting after tripping over a discarded toy or reaching for a very hot pan. Lucifer doesn’t have a chance to fall because she’s on her feet in a flash, catching him around the waist with ease while her other hand grabs his arm to steady him. 

“You, mister,” Chloe grunts with the effort of helping him straighten up, “Need to slow down. I’ll take care of breakfast.” 

“Nonsense!” Lucifer looks indignant; frowning at her like she’s somehow insulted him, “It’s the least I can do. I must insist.” He presses. He can’t, however, hide the way his jaw clenches as he rights himself; taking care not to step on the fallen Miss Alien.

Chloe sighs. She’d scrub her hand down her face if both hands weren’t busy keeping her partner upright. She opens her mouth to decline, to insist in turn that he sit his ass down and rest, but his expression stops the words before they ever reach her lips. 

He has that same expression from last night. That subtle, pleading one. She remembers, of course, that he takes equivalent exchange very seriously. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that he sees last night as a favour; something to be repaid. It’s a mindset of his that drives her insane because he can be a complete hypocrite about it. He always insists he repays his debts, even when she doesn’t want or expect him to, but he doesn’t apply that to her. He’s given her a lot in their partnership and yet he has never asked, nor seemed to want, repayment. 

As much as she wants to turn him down and make him rest, she knows that it’ll bother him. So she concedes but makes an agreement with herself that she needs to talk to him about that later. “Fine,” She agrees, and his face lights up not unlike an excited puppy’s, “But only if you can lean on something while you’re cooking. And if you need help,” She gives him a sharp look, “You better ask.” 

“Or what?” Lucifer drapes his arm over her shoulder with a smug grin, “You’ll-“

“Child present!” Chloe reminds him. 

Lucifer glances over to where Trixie is standing, watching them with a big grin on her face. He smiles sheepishly, then looks back at Chloe. “You’ll put me in time out?” He corrects smoothly. 

“Don’t test me, Morningstar.” She says it with no real malice, only a warm fondness at his antics. He responds with a fond chuckle of his own as she leads him into the kitchen. They move slow and he leans on her, not with his entire weight, but enough that he’s noticeably favouring his injured leg. She makes a mental note to get him some Tylenol to help with the pain. 

Chloe only lets go of him when he’s close enough to grab onto the counter. “Monkey,” She turns to Trixie, who follows close and looks at Lucifer with those anxious, worried eyes of hers, “Can you help Lucifer make breakfast? I need to text daddy and let him know that Lucifer is ok.” Dan had asked that she text him an update since she wouldn’t be coming in today at Pierce’s recommendation.

_“You’re the only one who he listens to in the slightest,” He’d said when she’d called in to report on her way to the hospital, “Take tomorrow off and see that he doesn’t kill himself.”_

“Ok, mommy!” Trixie agrees enthusiastically.

Chloe smiles and ruffles her already-messy hair. “I’ll be right back. Don’t get into too much trouble.” That’s directed more at Lucifer than it is at her daughter.

“Please,” Lucifer scoffs as he starts opening cabinets. As she turns away and heads back to the living room she hears him ask, “Child, where do you keep the brioche?”

“The what?”

A despondent sigh. “Crepes it is.” 

Chloe rolls her eyes. Right, cause she can afford brioche bread for everyday usage. She looks around the living room for her phone. She had it in her pocket last night, but at some point, during all the shifting and accidental cuddling it must’ve fallen out. She picks Miss Alien up off the floor and sits her on the couch, frowning as she doesn’t immediately see her phone. Under a pillow, maybe?

Actually, now that she thinks of it, where’s the blanket she’d felt Lucifer take off of her? She notices that there’s no discarded blanket anywhere in the room, not even behind the couch. Had her half-asleep mind only imagined that blanket was there? Remembering the impossible softness and warmth draped across her back, she can’t actually think of any blanket she owns that feels quite like that. She must’ve dreamt it, then. Neither Lucifer nor Trixie would’ve had time to put it away, and she’s had her eyes on them since waking. 

Chloe checks behind the pillows and finds nothing. Ok, then it must’ve fallen between the cushions. She sits and sticks her hand in the couch, only to immediately recoil when something sharp pricks her palm. Scowling, already imagining one of Maze’s knives, she reaches back in and feels around till she locates the sharp object. She’ll lecture her about it later, for now, she pulls it out before Trixie can-

A feather? 

Chloe stares at the feather she’d just pulled out of her couch. The frankly massive feather; it’s bigger than her hand. Curiously, she runs her finger along its pure white fluff. It’s maybe the softest thing she’s ever touched. But where did it come from? It’s way too big to have come from any of her furniture. She doesn’t even know what kind of bird this would come from. A swan maybe? That is, if it’s real.

It occurs to her that Trixie does have an art class at school. Maybe she’d simply dropped a feather at some point and it had gotten stuck in the couch. She sticks the feather in her pocket, electing to throw it out later. Back to the task at hand; she rummages through the couch cushions until she finally finds her phone wedged against the back of the couch. She pulls it out triumphantly and shoots off a quick update to Dan. 

_Lucifer’s back to his usual self. He and Trixie are making breakfast_

Dan replies almost instantly, as though he’d been waiting for her text, which she has no doubt he had.

_I’ll keep the fire department on speed dial_

Followed immediately by;

🔥

Chloe snorts and pockets her phone. Already she can hear the sizzling of something frying in on the stove. The smell of spices blooming and bacon and crepes cooking reaches her nose, and she wonders (not for the first time) just how Lucifer manages to make breakfast smell better than anything. She glances back at the kitchen. 

Not for the first time today, her heart melts. 

Lucifer is leaning against the stove, keeping his weight off his injured leg as he works two frying pans at once. His mouth moves around words she can’t make out and it takes her a moment to realize that he’s not talking, but singing. She can hear the gentle but rich melody of his voice over the sizzling pans, even from here.

Beside him, Trixie is seated on the counter, where she definitely wouldn’t have been able to get up to without a boost. She’s happily mixing a large bowl of what Chloe can only assume is batter; which she’s already got splattered on her nose and cheek. Her little legs swing idly and she nods her head along to Lucifer’s singing.

All Chloe can think of the picture before her is that somehow, it’s right. The warm morning sun makes them both glow and she thinks that this is so right it’s almost familiar. She watches them for a moment, her daughter and her partner, and a soft smile graces her features. Trixie starts to hum along with Lucifer’s singing; completely off-pitch and barely following the melody, but Lucifer smiles fondly all the same. And it’s a perfect moment she wishes she could take a picture of.

Chloe stands and goes to join them in the kitchen. She grabs a couple plates and lines them up. Lucifer dishes up the first round of crepes and bacon. Trixie gleefully helps get the next round started. One song blends into another and Lucifer throws Chloe a mischievous look as he sings one of her favourite songs. She joins in with a smile and soon all three of them are singing loudly, cooking breakfast, and forgetting that anything happened yesterday. 

When Trixie says it’s the best breakfast ever, Chloe is inclined to agree.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like, consider leaving a comment or review!


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